


Introduction to Reporting, or How to be the Greater Fool

by cyanidebats, sewnbythecolourofgreen



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Ensemble Cast, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanidebats/pseuds/cyanidebats, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewnbythecolourofgreen/pseuds/sewnbythecolourofgreen
Summary: Nebraska, 1996A year in the life of a small town's unusually dogged school newspaper.





	1. Chapter 1

Don knew the way to the high school already- over the past three days he’d driven the route five times, just to make sure (the professor who’d suggested he apply for the program once described him as possessing “the mix of overconfidence and insecurity non-existent outside of the acutely neurotic”- thankfully not in his letter of recommendation). The property he was renting was actually a little outside the town limits, meaning every time he left his house he passed the sign welcoming him to Belmonte in a cheery script. His car stuck out among the few in the parking lot of Edward R. Murrow Memorial High School at six A.M. on the first day of school. Smaller, to be sure, but the paint was newer and brighter. The high school wasn’t much to look at, but Don, not more than a few years out of one himself, knew high schools were the same everywhere. Different towns, same people.

He took a breath and pushed the front door open. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to go, and ended up wandering the halls, looking for someone he could ask for help.

“Are you lost?”

He turned around to face the sourced of the voice. A British accent wasn’t quite what he expected to find in rural Nebraska.

“A little.” He admitted. “I’m Don Keefer, I’m-”

“Will’s intern.” She finished for him. “I’ll bring you to his class.” She stuck out her hand.

“MacKenzie McHale. English teacher. You can call me Mac.”

He shook. “Don Keefer.”

“You said that already.” She gestured to the staircase and he followed her up. “You’re here all year?”

“Yeah, it’s a pilot program. Letting education students spend their third year, you know, teaching, instead of a internship that lasts a couple of months.”

She held the stairwell door open for him, eyebrows raised.  “Third year? How old are you?”

“Nineteen. I skipped a couple of grades.”

“Christ, they’re going to have a field day with you.” She said breezily, brushing past him. “We have students older than you.”

“Any advice?”

“If they don’t eat you alive, I’d consider it a success.” She pushed a classroom door open, stepping inside while Don hung back in the doorway. The man sitting at the teacher’s desk stood up when he saw her, not exactly smiling, but clearly pleased to see her. “When did you get back?” He asked.

“My flight landed last night.”

He frowned. “Heathrow to...”

“O’Hare, O’Hare to Lincoln.” She finished.

“Amtrak?”

“Combined with a cab fare I’d rather not think about.”

“I could have driven you.”

“No.” Mac said emphatically. “We are never doing that again.” She turned to Don. “Nine hours in a car with him. It was unbearable.”

The man nodded to Don. “Picking up strays again?” He asked MacKenzie.

“He’s not a student, he’s your intern. Don Keefer, Will McAvoy.”

“Is he old enough to drive at night?”

“He skipped a few grades.” She gestured for Don to enter the room. “I’m sure you’ll get along fine.”

“Have you seen Jim yet?” Will asked. “I almost expected him to be here before me.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.” Mac said, smiling at him in a way that clearly demonstrated her intent to extricate a favour from him. “They’ve moved department head meetings from Wednesdays to Thursdays this year. Tuesdays and Thursdays I’m supposed to supervise newspaper club after school so I thought you could take Thursdays. All you have to do is sit at your desk for an hour while Jim runs his meeting.”    

Will groaned. “Mac...”

“Come on, when I not been there for you?”

“You’ve never not been there for me.” He replied dutifully. “Can’t you just do it another day?”

“He’s busy other days. Come on, Will, this is my time of need!”

“Sounds more like Jim’s time of need to me.”

“Jim’s time of need is my time of need!”

“Your obsession with that boy-”

“Please just say yes!”

He gave up. “Fine.”  
“Great!” She grinned at him. “Turning down deparment head isn’t looking so good now, is it?”

“I was trying to avoid extra work, not-”

“I’m going to leave you two to get acquainted.” MacKenzie said. “Don, let me know if you need anything, and don’t let Will push you around.” She shut the classroom door behind her, leaving Don alone with Will, who sat back at his desk and resumed his paperwork.

After a pause, Will spoke. “You go to...”

“Northwestern.”

“What are you doing all the way out here.”

“Pilot program. Your principal- Charlie Skinner? He liked the idea.”

“He would.” Will looked satisfied with Don’s answer. “You can go get the history textbooks off the shelf in the back room.”

Don nodded, opening the door to the class’ storage room. “Not a lot of books.” He called out. “Small class?”

“Everyone shares with another student.”

Don returned with an armful of books. “You only have enough textbooks for half your class?”

“You’re not in Chicago anymore, Dorothy.”  
     
“Northwestern is actually in Evanston.” Don said quickly. “And it’s not like urban areas are known for their stellar education budgets, but-”  
Will cut him off, glancing up. “Are you planning on remaining a pain in the ass all year?”  
*  

An hour later, classes were in full swing. Will and Mac had taught everyone before with the exception of the ninth graders, many of whom they knew already. Mac did notice an unfamiliar face in the back of her freshman English. The same girl caught her eye outside during the lunch hour, and Mac watched her point a Polaroid camera at the few scraggly trees surrounding the school.

“You like taking pictures?”

The girl spun around. “I, um- yeah.”

“You’re in my English class, right?”

“Yeah. I’m Maggie.”

MacKenzie smiled sympathetically. “New in town?”

“We moved over the summer.”

“From?”

“Cedar Hills.” Maggie grimaced.

“Ah.” Mac nodded in understanding. “Containing-”

“Neither cedar, nor hills.” Maggie finished for her. “Moving from this school’s rival hasn’t-” She searched for the right word. “endeared me to anyone, it would seem.”

“How long have you been taking pictures?”

“Oh, I’m not good or anything, I just got this camera for my birthday.”

“Tomorrow, after school. My classroom. The newspaper club is meeting, and they need a new photographer.”

“I’m not sure-”

“Come.” MacKenzie said firmly. “It’ll be a good way to meet some people. I-” She spotted a figure emerging from the school. “Excuse me, I’ve got to go, but come find me if you need anything.” She started making her way towards the figure. “Jim! Jim!”

His face broke into a smile when he saw her. “Ms McHale! Hi!”

“How was your summer?” She asked him.

“Good. How was England?”

“It was nice. Did you get the package I sent you?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at him expectantly. “And?”

“I-” Jim took a breath. “I tried, okay? I really did. But it’s a thousand pages, and it goes really slowly, and I couldn’t finish it.”

“How far did you get?”

“Chapter three?” He said meekly.

“Oh, Jim.” She sighed, smiling.

“I’m sorry, I know how important that book is to you.”

She leaned in. “Would it make you feel any better, ” She said quietly. “if told Mr. McIvor hasn’t actually read it, he just saw the musical?”

“It would, a little.” Jim said. “Wait, really?”

Mac grinned conspiratorially. “You’d best keep that one between you and me, he’d have my head if he knew I’d told anyone.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” He promised.

“By the way.” She said. “I’ve already got three people to join newspaper.”

He smiled apologetically. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I figured you’d need the help repopulating after the stunt you pulled last year.”

“It wasn’t a stunt!” Jim protested. “I may have… edited the newspaper a bit before we printed it.”

“Without consulting, and in fact, against the direct orders of, your editor-in-chief.”

“I still won the leadership vote.”

“Do you think any of the seniors are coming back this year?” She asked.

“If the dirty looks they’ve been giving me all summer are anything to go by, I doubt it.”

“Well, I guess we’ll know tomorrow.” She glanced around. “I’ve got to find Mr. McAvoy, I’ll see you in class.”  
*

Don considered Will with suspicion as they surveyed the school grounds on lunch duty. “You’re saying I can point to anyone here and you can tell me everything about them.”

Will shrugged. “That’s small town life for you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Try me.”

Don glanced around. Someone caught his eye. A dark haired girl, doing laps around the field with the rest of the track team, but running ahead of the rest of them, with a determination that made him a little afraid. “Her.” he said. “Who is she?”

Will snorted. “She’s easy. Sloan Sabbith, senior. Pride and joy of Murrow Memorial. Track star, debate team captain, challenging six AP courses."

“I didn’t think this school offered AP courses.”

“We don’t. Hence, challenging. She’s been sending strongly-worded letters to the College Board about their scheduling the micro- and macro- economics exams at the same time so she can’t take both.”

“Wow.”

“She’s a bit of a legend around here. Apparently she punched a senior in the face on her first day as a freshman.”

“Is that true?” Don asked. “I mean, you would have been there, right?”

Will shrugged. “Can’t really remember, to be honest. Students come in, students leave, it all happens so fast.”

“Can I- Can I ask-” Don hesitated. “You don’t seem particularly invested in your students.”

Will was about to respond when MacKenzie appeared behind him. “When’s your first unit test?” She asked.

“Probably the twenty-seventh.” He replied.

She nodded, turning to Don. “I don’t like to give students two tests on the same day if I don’t have to.” She said. “Being unnecessarily cruel is just...” She trailed off. “Unnecessarily cruel.”

“Well put.” Will commented.

“Thanks.”

“Don here was just telling me I’m not invested in my students.”

“Oh, God.” Mac said. “He hasn’t heard about the mission to civilize yet?”

“Don’t worry, he will.”

“Will it be condensed from the four hours you spent telling me about it when I first got here?”

“If I’m feeling generous.”

She grinned at him. “I’ve got to go, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” By the end of her sentence she was already rushing off.

"So, what’s her story?” Don asked Will.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it doesn’t sound like she was born here.”

“She moved here two years ago. By a mile the smartest person on staff. She taught at Barnard before coming here.”

Don couldn’t contain his surprise. “She left Barnard for this? Why?”

Will raised his eyebrows. “We do live here, you know.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know.”

“But seriously, why did she leave?”

“Why do you ask?” His words came a little too quickly and Don sensed the need to back off.

“I was just wondering.”

Will softened a little “She moved here two years ago and Charlie calls her ‘The Junior Class’ unofficial twenty-second member’. She has a bit of a penchant for getting involved in her students’ personal lives.”

“You though I was one of her strays.” Don recalled.

“Yeah.”

“Jim, he’s one of them.”

“Neither of them had any friends when she first got here, so she made him into some kind of project. Coaxing him out of his shell.”

“And it worked?”

Will shrugged. “He’s always kind of irritated me, to be honest.” The bell rang. “Come on,” He said. “We’ve got seniors first, then freshmen.”

Don followed him inside. He had the feeling this was going to be an interesting year.  
   


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this was NOT supposed to take a month... sorry friends :) (Also re: tags- I took out the Mac/Will tag. Doesn't mean it's not going to happen, I'm just not sure where this is going, it's meant to roughly parallel Season 1 and I don't know if they'll end up together)

“First official newspaper club meeting is now in session.” Jim said, glancing around. “Ms McHale said she’d be back in a minute.” He was perched on a desk at the front of the room at the front of her classroom, scanning the seven or eight faces present. All the seniors had left following his doctoring of last year’s final issue, leaving Neal, Gary, and a collection of freshmen he knew by sight and name but not much else. “As a quick recap, we-” He was silenced by the approaching voices in the hallway. 

“Ms. McHale, I’m really not sure if-” He could hear a student saying. 

“Don’t be silly.” Ms. McHale said. “Come in.”

The door opened. “Everyone,” Ms. McHale said. “This is Maggie-”

“Margaret.” The girl corrected. 

“This is Maggie Margaret.”

“Just Maggie.” She slid into a desk, trying to make herself look as small as possible. 

“Okay, as I was saying,” Jim said. “For those of you who are new, we publish bi-weekly.”

One of the new members raised her hand. “Wait, is that-”

“Once every two weeks.” Jim clarified. “We run copies at the school and put one in all the classrooms, a few in the library and cafeteria, and some for anyone who wants one- we usually put one in the gas station and the coffee shop on Spring Street. First two meetings we do pitches, next two we put it together and do edits and revisions. We’re a little light on personnel this year-” 

“Because you’re still here.” Neal interjected. 

“That’s- entirely true.” Jim conceded. “But I’m hoping that all that means is the people we have are unified in our vision. I want us to think of this as Newspaper Club 2.0. We’re going to try a new format. No gossip, no surveys, we want to focus on news that’s important for our students and our town.”

Maggie snorted. 

“What?” Jim asked. 

“We don’t vote.” She said.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, we don’t vote. You’re not Walter Cronkite, you’re not here to inform your electorate. Gossip and surveys and frivolous entertainment are fun, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m hoping we can do a little better.”  
“I don’t see why we can’t have it both ways.” Maggie argued. “We’re in school six hours a day, if you’re going to make us read lectures on what you think is important you need to add in a little incentive. Not only are people capable of caring about both important and trivial issues, it’s the trivial things that keep most of us sane.”

“It can be a conversation.” Jim said mildly. 

“Also, don’t you think it’s kind of sexist? All the things you think are stupid are things women are stereotyped as liking?”

“I didn’t say- I didn’t say any of that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with liking things that don’t fit your high standards of political relevance.”

“I said, it can be a conversation.” Jim sighed. “Let’s go around the room with pitches.” 

“Football team tryouts on Friday.” Gary supplied.

“Sounds good.”

“Is football serious news?” Maggie asked mockingly. 

“We’re covering it.” Jim said firmly. He turned back to Gary. “We’ll send someone to take pictures and get a copy of the final roster. Our old photographer isn’t coming back this year so we’ll need to appoint a new one and see if the school has one we’ll be able to sign out-”

Mac looked up from her papers. “You’ve got a photographer.” She said. “Maggie.”

Jim turned to Maggie. “You have a camera?”

“Yeah.”

He considered for a minute. “You know how to use it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.” 

“Okay.” He said warily. 

“Editorial pitch?” Neal said. 

Jim nodded. “Go ahead. ”

“School board leadership change-”

“Not officially.” Jim interrupted. 

“I know, but word is this year Reese Lansing’s taking on way more of his mother’s responsibilities. We can do something on the changes that’ll for our school.”

“First find out if there are any.” 

“Start with the budgets.” Mac suggested. “Look for any cuts or re-distributions this year.” 

Jim nodded, then bit his lip. “Are we going to get you in trouble if we investigate the Lansings?” He asked her. 

“Don’t worry about that.” She said firmly. “I can handle myself.”  
* 

Don’s phone rang early Friday morning. “Hello?” He said groggily. 

“Are you busy?” 

“It’s-” He grabbed his watch, squinting in the half-light. “5:46 A.M.”

“Can you stop by my house?” Will said. “I need your help with something.”

Don rubbed his eyes. “Yeah. Where do you live?” Will gave directions. “I’ll be there in ten.” Don waited for his boss to hang up (it seemed only polite), threw on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt, and got in his car. 

Will was waiting outside when Don pulled in front of his house, wasting no time on preamble. “These boxes came in yesterday, I need to get them into my truck so I can bring them to the school but my elbow’s kind of fucked, I need help moving them.” 

Don considered this. “Are we doing something illegal?”

“No. Why would you say that?”

“You’re moving a bunch of sealed boxes early enough in the morning you won’t have witnesses, and despite living in this town for at least two years the person you’ve asked for help is someone who moved here less than a week ago so I can only assume it’s because you can get me kicked out of school if I say anything.”

Will snorted. “Don’t be so melodramatic. I’m not doing anything illegal.” He ripped open one of the boxes. 

“Those are history textbooks.” Don said. 

“They were supposed to get here before classes started.” 

“Did you buy these yourself?”

Will shrugged. “The board wouldn’t do it. These kids need textbooks.”

“That’s… nice of you.”

“Are you going to stand there or help?”

Don picked up a box. 

“Listen,” Will said as Don slid the box into the truck. “This may not be illegal, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to anyone.” 

“Afraid it’ll do away with everyone’s stoic and uncaring perceptions of you?”

Will looked unimpressed. “No, because I like my job. It’s a violation of board policy to spend your own money on your students.”

“Why?”

“Allegedly, it gives some kids an unfair advantage.”

“These students were disadvantaged in the first place.” Don pointed out. “They didn’t have textbooks. Shouldn’t the board be paying for that?”

Will shrugged. “I submitted a request for more but it was denied. Not enough money. But if the board found out about these,” He gestured to the boxed. “I’d face disciplinary action.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’d rather not find out. As long as no one asks, don’t bring it up. If someone does ask, the board approved the money.”

“Okay.” 

“You’re not going to rat me out, are you?”

“I have no reason to.” Feeling a little more at ease than he had in the time he’d spent with Will, Don decided to push his luck a little. “So, you and MacKenzie seem pretty close.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

“Anything… going on there?”

“She’s a little old for you, don’t you think?” Will deadpanned. 

Don held up his hands in mock surrender. “Just asking.” He wondered briefly if the girl he’d seen on the track had a boyfriend, but there didn’t seem to be any way to get that into the conversation. “Is-” He began. “Nevermind.” Fuck. “Just hand me another box.”  
*  
When the final bell rang, Jim carefully shut himself in Mac’s classroom seconds after the last students filed out. “Hi.” 

MacKenzie looked up. “Hi.” 

“Does Reese Lansing drive a Lexus? Like, a new Lexus?”

She put down her pen. “How do you know that?” 

“Deep background.” He said innocently. 

“Jim.”

“Your meeting yesterday- I overheard you telling Mr McAvoy that because it was the first of the year Reese Lansing was going to be there and it was at Cedar Hills High so I got Neal to bike there. He hid behind a bush to see if he could get anything on Reese.”

“Jim.”

“I know-”

“You should have told me.”

“I know that it was wrong.”

“ Not that; it was pouring buckets yesterday. I could have driven him. Kid must have been soaked.”

“That’s not what I came to talk to you about, anyway. Are you sure- I mean, are you sure, that it’s not a problem for you if we go after Reese Lansing?” Jim shifted his weight from one leg to the other. 

“I can handle myself with Reese. You have more important things to worry about this year.”

“Like doing the news?”

“Like your SATs.” The noise of a whistle blowing outside interrupted their conversation. Mac squared a stack of papers on her desk. “Football tryouts.” She said, nodding at the window. “You could go check on-” She stopped. 

“Maggie.” Jim supplied. 

“Right.” 

“I guess I will.”

Mac raised her eyebrows. 

“What?”

“You don’t think she’s cute?”

“She’s young. And green.”

“She’s- what - a year younger than you? And you’ve got to get off your high horse about your newspaper. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because she’s right.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going now.”

“Go check on her!” Mac called as he left. “Maybe apologize!”

*  
He found Maggie on the bleachers, carefully framing a shot of the the field. “How’s it going?”

She glanced up. “Good.”

He took a seat beside her and pointed to one of the athletes. “That’s Jake Dugan. He was vice-captain last year, everyone knows he’ll make captain this year. You should try to get a statement from him if you can.”

“Already done.”

“What’d he say?”

Maggie carefully set her camera down and flipped open a spiral notebook. “He said,” She glanced down, reading off her notes. “‘Aren’t you that bitch from Cedar Hills? Fuck off.’”

“So when you said it was going well...”

“May have been exaggerating. If I just get some nice pictures they can fill the page and it won’t matter that the text is short.” She reached again for the Polaroid. 

Jim was silent for a few moments, then, unable to contain his curiosity, leaned over her shoulder. “You want to make sure you’re framing out-”

She turned sharply, narrowly avoiding bumping his head with her one. “I’ve done this before! Jesus, are you always this condescending.”

“I didn’t mean to sound-”

“Well you did.” She rested the camera in her lap, fiddling with it mindlessly to avoid looking at him. “I know you didn’t want me on this, that was pretty clear. And it’s not like I want to be writing sports stories. The only reason I’m here is that it’s looking like my one friend in this town is going to be my English teacher and at the very least I can try not to screw that up. I know if you could have overruled her-”

“I could have overruled her.” He jumped in. 

She met his eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

His gaze shifted to the football players. “Jake Dugan used to beat this shit out of me in elementary school. I thought sending a pretty girl might get more traction.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Well I wasn’t about to send Ms. McHale.” They both smirk at the thought. “Look,” He said. “We can just print the roster. The girl’s track team tryouts are Monday. That can be our story.” He paused for a beat. “And no leaning over your shoulder, either. You’ve got this one.” 

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we overuse italics.

"I've been in this meeting fifteen minutes and I still have no idea why."

The classroom lights were off, but light filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow on the room, a rich, buttery, autumn colour. Reese Lansing stood at the back of the room, silhouetted by the light as he fiddled with the overhead projector resting on one of the desks. At the room's front, Charlie looked almost comical; a suit and a tie slouched in a student's desk.

"The real trouble," Reese said. "started two years ago, when you hired MacKenzie McHale." Reese shuffled his papers and carefully placed her employee file on the projector's glass, causing her image to appear at the front of the class.

"Thanks, but I actually know what Mac looks like without you projecting her onto a wall." Charlie remarked dryly. "And what calamity occurred two years ago?"

"Nothing."

"You just said-"

"It was more the _seeds_ of calamity. Trouble on the horizon."

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about?"

"Let's just skip ahead to my real problem. At the beginning of the year, the school paper changed leadership. Were you aware of that?"

"Maybe vaguely."

Reese changed the slide to Jim's sophomore yearbook picture. "James Harper became editor-in-chief."

"How do you even know this?"

Reese was losing patience. "Because I had someone brief me, Charlie, after I got more angry parents from your school calling than I would if I announced I was adding _Mein Kampf_ to the English syllabus."

"This is about September."

"September 30th, James Harper and Neelamani Sampat-" Neal's photograph joined Jim's on the projector screen. "- published their editorial _Banning Books: A two-thousand year history._ "

Charlie shrugged. "So what?"

"So, despite their going back to the time of Confucius, they managed to find column inches to call out the school district for the five books it currently-"

"Bans." Charlie supplied. "Seems topical to me."

"- the five books it currently _does not allow in school libraries or classes._ "

"Ms. McHale might call that circumlocution."

"I mean, Jesus Christ, Charlie, doesn't she _vet_ the stuff those kids print?"

"It was a borderline call, but she's qualified to make borderline calls."

"Angry parents were jamming the lines of the district office telling me it's not school's responsibility to educate children about topics outlined _in detail_ in that article and I didn't know what to tell them other than that I agreed."

"I don't. And you work for your students, not the parents. Your work is providing them with the best education possible, which includes exposing them to materials they might find offensive."

"As much as I wish that were true, I _do_ work for the parents, and the day you find me a fifteen-year-old more likely to get me fired than his father is the day I will be proved otherwise. And I don't thinking wanted to leave conversations about sex and violence up to the parents makes me the bad guy."

"Nobody's the bad guy, Reese."

"Well, how's this for being the bad guy: Make sure your English teacher knows if she lets those kids print anything more controversial than a weather report she'll be cleaning out her office."

"I'll pass that along."

"I'm not your enemy, Charlie, and you've got to stop acting like it."

"Reese?"

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck out of my classroom."

*

September faded easily into October, bringing with it more newspaper meetings (Will supervised dutifully, which consisted of making Don do it and leaving promptly at 3 o'clock).

Midway through the month, Sloan Sabbith grabbed Jim's arm in the hallway. "Jim."

"Hi." He knew Sloan the way he knew most people in Belmonte, by name and face and reputation and not much else.

"Yesterday-"

"Sloan!" She was cut off by Mr. Hirsch, waving at her. "Come by my class if you're having trouble with BC, okay? Anytime."

"I'm fine, thank. But I will." She flashed an obviously fake smile, which dropped off her face the minute she turned back to Jim. "Yesterday-"

"What was that about?"

"Mr. Hirsch is my AP coordinator. He keeps trying to help me. It's so _irritating._ "

Jim gave a sardonic nod. "Yeah. No, I can _definitely_ see how that would be irritating."

"Be quiet, Harper. Yesterday was the first day in history the Dow's closed above 6,000."

Jim frowned. "Okay."

She looked at him expectantly. "I'm saying if you want any help with it. For the paper."

"That's not really the kind of news we report."

"Oh." Her expression was unreadable. "That's fine. I just thought I could help."

"Maybe not this time. I'll let you know if something comes up."

"Okay." She stared at him. "I have a class now."

With that, she turned and disappeared down the hallway.

*

"It's just really nice to finally talk to someone." Maggie confessed. "I feel like everyone here hates me."

"Oh, don't be silly." Lisa said. "People take the whole school rivalry thing way too seriously."

Maggie wasn't sure whose party it was- and she was almost certain she hadn't been invited- but Lisa had found her alone in a corner, offered her a drink, and struck up a conversation.

"You have a ride home, right?"

"Um, I was gonna walk. I live a couple of streets over. Is Jim drinking? He drove me here, but I thought I saw him with a-"

"Is this your first high school party?"

"I guess."

Lisa eyed Maggie's empty glass. "I would have suggested you go a little slower had I known."

"I feel fine."

Lisa grimaced apologetically. "You won't." 

"Hey, you know Jim, right? I was wondering, I mean, I was gonna ask, do you think he'd-"

Before Maggie could finish her sentence, Jim walked over and kissed Lisa's cheek. "Hi. I was looking for you."

_Oh._

"You know Maggie, right?" Lisa asked Jim.

"Yeah, we do newspaper together."

"I should come by sometime. By the way, have you seen Neal? He might be kind of bummed, I heard he just broke up with someone."

Jim laughed. "Neal has _always_ just broken up with someone. I'm surprised there are people left." He eased an arm around Lisa.

Maggie was growing progressively more uncomfortable. "Do you, um, know where the bathroom is?"

"Down the hall." Lisa said, gesturing.

"Thanks." Maggie replied, grabbing her purse. "Back in a minute." 

She was stopped on the way to the bathroom. "Hey. Are you okay?" She looked up and was faced with Sloan, eyes upfront and full of concern.

"I just need some air." Maggie gasped.

“You don’t look so good.” Sloan said, steering Maggie into the (thankfully, quieter) kitchen before helping her into a chair. “Who made your drink?”

“Lisa… Lisa Lambert.” Maggie realized why Sloan was asking. “She wouldn’t try to… do anything.”

“Just a lightweight, then?” She saw Maggie grimace. “First time?” 

 "'Spose so."

“Let me get you some water.” Sloan started opening cupboard doors at random in search of glasses. 

“Is this your house?” Maggie asked, barely paying attention.

Sloan glanced back, surprised. “It’s Lisa’s.” 

Oh. Maggie hadn’t known that. 

The glasses were located and soon Maggie was babbling in between sips of water. She wasn’t sure whether it was the alcohol or her usual awkwardness. “Listen, you’re the first… second,” She frowned. “Fourth person in this town to be nice to me, and I don’t know if this is the alcohol talking or not, but can I just vent to you a little?”

“Sure.” Sloan replied, almost tonelessly. 

“Jim- you know Jim, right? Of course you know Jim. Jim’s been so nice to me ever since I got here- well, except for the first couple of days but he’s been so  _ nice _ every time I’ve seen him and I sort of thought that maybe something was gonna happen but it looks like he and Lisa might be-” Maggie was forced to stop for a big gulp of air (It had taken her no more than three seconds to get all that out). “-together, I guess, or something else, I don’t really know.” She stared at Sloan. “Are they dating? Do you know? Should I talk to him?”

Sloan thought for a minute. “I don’t talk to Jim much.” She said finally. “But he seems like a good guy.”

“What does  _ that _ mean? Are they dating or not?”

“They’ve been friends a long time, I think. On-again-off-again for a while last year, but who knows now. I don't think either of them have even dated anyone else, and honestly they act pretty much the same around each other when they're broken up. ” Sloan stared at Maggie’s crestfallen face and held up a finger. “Wait. No. Honesty was not the best policy in that situation, was it?”

“Could have sugar-coated it a little.” Maggie admitted. 

“Maggie?” Jim appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I just wanted to check up on you, you left us hanging back there.”

“Jim,” Maggie said, alcohol bestowing her with new courage. “Jim, I want to tell you some-”

“That’s not a good idea.” Sloan cut in, smiling at Jim apologetically. “She’s drunk.” She told him. “I’m going to drive her home.”

“I can-” He started. 

“I’m going to drive her home.” Sloan repeated firmly.  

“Okay.”

“Jim-” Maggie tried to get in. 

“No more talking from you until we’re in the car.” Sloan ordered, not unkindly. 

*

On Monday, Sloan’s perpetual scowl softened when she saw Maggie, and Maggie thought she might have made a friend. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Written by cyanidebats, who wishes there was more Jim/Maggie fanfiction, and me, who questions the implications of completely removing characters from the environment that shaped them, but seems to have enjoyed doing it anyway.  
> -sewnbythecolourofgreen


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